A Song for the Dawn
by Periklis Philografi
Summary: Lyanna gives birth to her son before her brother can reach her. With their kingsguard at their side, Jon and Dany must play their parts in the final game to bring the dawn.


**Author's Note**: This is a rewrite of _Light Bringer_ and was inspired by _What You're Risking Your Life For _by MostTulip.

I will be using the book characters that did not appear in the show and will mainly follow book cannon with some show cannon sprinkled within should it prove more useful.

I have finally settled on a Targaryen name for Jon that isn't too long and is structured so that I can make it so that Jon has the nickname "Jon" the same way Daenerys has the nickname "Dany".

* * *

**Ser Gerold Hightower**

The girl was bleeding and would not last long. He didn't need to be a maester to know that she was going to die very soon, for he knew blood and he knew that Lyanna was losing far too much of it.

Gerold turned towards the other girl present in the room, a midwife that Oswell had brought from the nearby village. His hard blue eyes stared into the girls simple brown orbs, holding her terrified gaze. When Lyanna went into labour, Gerold and ordered Oswell to go and get a midwife to aid them in the birth, only for him to return not long after with a terrified common girl that Oswell had likely dragged here by force.

Regardless, the girl did not seem to fully understand what was happening.

"Can you save her?" He asked.

The girl shook her head nervously, "I'm sorry, m'lord. The lady needs a healer."

Gerold growled a little in frustration, as he cast a look at the Stark girl. The sheets around her groin were soaked with blood and her skin was covered in sweat, which caused her long dark brown hair to stick to her forehead. Her eyelids were heavy and her breathing was laboured.

A soft cry came from the bundle he held in his arms, breaking the silence that had descended over the room.

Looking down, the lord commander saw the tiny form of his newborn king, swaddled in his own white cloak. The babe's wet grey eyes peered out as though they were desperately searching for something, while a small tuft of dark brown hair, the same shade as his mother's, sat atop his head.

The babe was a Targaryen king that would only ever be a Targaryen in name, never in look. For no matter how much he searched, Gerold could not find any of the traditional Targaryen features on the boys face. The child bore the look of the ancient Kings of Winter, not those of Old Valyria.

His king's cries breathed fresh life into the Stark girl.

"Ser Gerold." She said, her voice shaky and weak, "Give me my son."

Gerold nodded and carefully deposited the babe into his mother's waiting arms. As soon as she had the king within her grasp, held close to her bosom, the boy's cries stopped, and he fell silent.

The lord commander watched as the girl lay upon the blood soaked bed, barely managing to hold onto his king with what little strength she had left.

Holding her son, the girl seemed to be bask in the sense of peace that he brought her.

Arriving at the Tower of Joy, on the orders of the late King Aerys to find the missing crown prince, he had been surprised at what he found. Gerold had, much to his shame, assumed that the accusations levied against the prince were true, that he had truly kidnapped and raped the only daughter of House Stark. He had feared that the madness of House Targaryen had finally caught up with his prince, as it had with the late king. Years of service under the Mad King had left him bitter and jaded, always assuming the worst of people. A useful trait for a kingsguard, but a terrible trait for a man.

In truth, he had arrived to find that he had only been half right. Lyanna Stark had not been kidnapped or raped, for she had run away with the prince willingly. A desperate attempt to flee from her hated betrothed into the comforting arms of the man she loved and the happiness that he brought her. A happiness that lasted until the moment Gerold arrived from the capital baring news of the chaos that had engulfed the kingdom.

Both had been distraught, realization finally sinking in as they understood what their actions had wrought. Steeling himself, the prince left the tower, never to return again, leaving them with the simple command to protect his wife and their unborn child.

Once Prince Rhaegar had departed to face the rebels that had risen up in the wake of Aerys madness, he learned of what had transpired between Lady Lyanna and the Crown Prince. He learned that she had been the mysterious Knight of the Laughing Tree, and he learned of the whirlwind romance that had wiped up between the two. Of the hasty wedding they celebrated together on the bank of the God's Eye, and the annulment of the prince's marriage to Princess Elia Martell, an act which neither he nor his brothers-in-arms approved of. Gerold at least took solace in knowing that the two had known joy, even if it was short lived.

Gerold's assumptions had been somewhat right however. Rhaegar had not kidnapped Lyanna Stark, but he had succumb to madness. For is love not a form of madness? A madness that blinds a man from doing his duty and seeing the world for what it is. Yes, Rhaegar had gone mad the moment he truly saw Lyanna Stark for who she was, and Gerold knew that he could never bring himself to judge the prince for that. He had silently judged Aerys every time he burned a man alive, or every time the lord commander had been forced to stand by as he raped the queen, for those were the acts a man was meant to be judged for. But, Gerold could not bring himself to judge his prince for being human, for finding love and trying to hold it close.

"Is he here yet?" Lyanna asked.

"No my lady. Lord Stark is still a long ways out." Gerold responded.

A moon back they had received word from Ser Barristan Selmy that Lord Eddard Stark was leading men to lift the siege at Storm's End and then find his sister. Barristan had urged them to flee and do what they felt they must. From the letter, Gerold had a pretty good idea what Barristan was considering. He couldn't blame him, for the thought of serving Viserys was an appalling notion. The boy was already showing the signs of madness. A madness that they had all hated serving under and were loathed to serve under again. Barristan didn't know that Rhaegar had a son whom he could serve and protect. Gerold could only hope that once he did know, he would do his duty and come to join them.

Lyanna looked at her son's face, running her thumb gently over his cheek, "He looks just like my father and Ben."

Gerold remained silent for a moment, weighing his words before speaking, "With any luck his grace will be just as great a leader as the late Lord Stark."

A choked sob escaped from the girls lips, "It's all my fault. If I hadn't been so stupid, then …"

True, the girl should have considered her actions more thoroughly, but the guilt she felt for all the lives lost since running away with the prince was not a burden she should have to bare. Once Rhaegar had left, Lyanna truly saw what was happening around her. She understood that the deaths of her brother and father were the work of the Mad King, but still blamed herself. She understood that the deaths of Elia and her children were the work of Tywin Lannister, but she still blamed herself.

Elia. During Lyanna's stay in the tower, Elia Martell had been the single greatest source of grief and shame for Lyanna. She had stolen the princess' husband and, in her mind, caused the deaths of the woman and her children.

Gerold could see that Lyanna was beginning to, once again, spiral into a pit of grief and guilt.

"My lady." He said, drawing the girls attention, "The king needs a name."

Lyanna looked at her son, her eyes and cheeks still wet with tears as she no longer had the strength to wipe them away. For several minutes she basked in her son's presence.

"Jaegon. Jaegon Targaryen" She replied.

He nodded, all while wondering where the name came from. Regardless, the king had a name, now he just needed to be brought to safety since the tower would not be safe for much longer.

"Where will you go?" Lyanna asked, no doubt seeing his desire to leave etched onto his features.

Gerold ran his hand through the grey hair that grew from his head before speaking, "We will go and meet up with Queen Rhaella. From there we will plan our next move."

Lyanna's gaze returned to her son, who had fallen asleep, but Gerold could see that she was nervous, "What is wrong, my lady?"

The girl tensed. "Will she love him?" She whispered, her voice shaky and fearful.

Gerold understood her fear. He could see that the girl was afraid people would hate her son, blaming him for the mistakes that had been made by his parents.

"There is no doubt in my mind that her grace will love the king as though she had birthed him from her own womb." He said, causing the girl to relax a little, "Did you want us to leave a message for Lord Stark?"

"Yes." She responded, "Tell him I'm sorry for everything. Tell him not to hate my son and to please help keep him safe, for I fear what Robert may do to him if given the chance."

Gerold approached the bed and moved to retrieve his king, taking him from his mother's arms and holding him close to his chest. As he did so, he met Lyanna's gaze, her steely grey eyes boring into his own.

"Promise me Ser." She said, "Promise you will protect my son. I need to know that he will be safe."

He was a kingsguard. By the gods, he was the lord commander. His chief duty was to protect the king and no promise to a dying girl was needed to make that anymore true. But, he knew that the young girl before him needed to hear it anyway.

"I promise." He said, granting her the last bit of comfort he could before she passed.

"Thank you."

Her eyelids closed and her arms lay still across the bed as the rise and fall of her chest ceased.

Closing his eyes he said a silent prayer for Lyanna Stark before turning his attention to the midwife that was still present. She looked even more fearful. It was understandable as she may not know the details, but now knew that she was caught in the middle of the civil war. That she was in the presence of a Targaryen and his kingsguard.

"Go fetch some clean linens." He commanded, prompting the frightened girl to scurry off.

"Oswell."

Moments later a man with light brown hair and hazel eyes appeared from the shadows of the doorway.

"Take the king and have Arthur ready our horses."

"It has already been done Lord Commander. We are ready to go whenever you are." Oswell replied.

"Good. I will clean up in here and meet you outside." Gerold said as he handed the king to his sworn brother.

As Oswell left, Gerold walked towards the dresser that stood on the side of the room. He looked inside, and retrieved a pure white silk shift, the one that Lyanna wore most often. Gerold had come to assume that it was her favourite, though he knew not from where she had gotten it.

Moving over to the bed, he lifted the girl and removed the sheets.

It had not taken long for the midwife to return, by which time he had stripped the bed and the Stark girl bare and was in the process of washing Lyanna's corpse with a wet sponge. He could not bring her body with them to be properly buried, and he knew that she wouldn't want them to. For she had told them many times how she wanted to return to Winterfell someday, and now, she would. Once her brother discovered her body he would bring her back home to be buried with her father and eldest brother. But, Gerold could not bring himself to just leave the girl as she was, a dishevelled and blood soaked mess. He would leave her as the rare beauty that his prince had fallen in love with.

Once he had finished washing Lyanna's body, he dried her with a piece of fabric, and, with the help of the midwife, dressed her in the shift.

Carrying her to the bed, he placed her upon the pristine sheets and pulled them up to cover her stomach, and crossed her hands so that they would also rest above her midsection. Moving over to the table he retrieved a vase with a bundle of winer roses and plucked them from the container. Using his dagger, he cut the stems and scattered the flowers on the bed.

Once he was satisfied that everything was perfect, he penned a quick note for Eddard Stark and left the room, the midwife following nervously behind him.

Once they were about half way from the exit of the tower, Gerold stopped suddenly, surprising the girl.

"This should be far enough." He mumbled to himself.

"S-S-Ser?" He heard the girls nervous whimper come from behind him.

As he turned around to face her, he drew his sword.

He was the lord commander of the kingsguard. He had sworn an oath to protect his king, and he would keep it. He could not risk his king's enemies learning about his existence until they reached someplace safe.

Gerold raised his sword and swung the razor sharp steel, just as the girl let loose as terrified scream.

~X~

**Ser Arthur Dayne**

Arthur watched the men scurrying around the docks like drunken rats, piling boxes into the hull of the ship that sat in the harbour of Starfall. The ship that they would be taking to Dragonstone, The Starling. A decently sized and swift vessel with a hundred oars that could avoid most pirates and other such pursuers with some ease.

As he stood upon the docks and oversaw the preparations that were being made for their departure, he thought about his prince, his closest friend.

Had they expected too much from Rhaegar? Had they burdened him with expectations that were too great to bare?

Rhaegar had always done what was required of him and never did what it was that he wanted to do, outside of small pleasures like reading far too late into the night and sneaking into the city to sing to the small folk. Rhaegar wed Princess Elia, a woman that he respected but did not love, because it was required of him. Rhaegar even took up the sword, not because he wanted to, but because he believed he had to, though Arthur still did not know what prompted him to come to that conclusion.

It had been when Rhaegar came into the yard to learn swordsmanship for the first time that Arthur had really met the prince. He had already been a squire at King's Landing for a few months and in that time he had been rather disappointed with the royal family. The king was odd and did even odder things, not yet having been completely lost to madness. The queen did her best to remain invisible and the crown prince spent all his time in musty old rooms reading dust caked books.

For the longest time he hadn't thought of the crown prince as being particularly special. He was too melancholic and rarely interacted with people outside of his mother and a small group of scholars. So he had been surprised when the prince appeared in the training yard saying that it seemed he needed to be a warrior.

At first Arthur had just assumed that some advisor told him that a king needed to be both strong and learned. That if he wasn't a warrior than others would seek to overthrow him or insult him behind his back for being weak.

But now, having seen the things he had seen while guarding Rhaegar, he couldn't help but wonder what truly spurred the prince to take up the sword that day. He was Rhaegar's closest friend and confidant, the only other person that Rhaegar trusted as much as Queen Rhaella. Yet, there was still so many questions that he had about his friend, so many secrets that the prince had kept hidden from everyone. He was looking forward to seeing the queen again, both so that he could see a comforting face in these troubled times and so that he might be able to get some answers. That is, assuming Rhaegar had shared the answers Arthur sought with her at all.

"Arthur." Oswell's voice broke him from his musings and he turned towards his brother-in-arms, "The lord commander told me to come and take over for you. He wants to leave at first light tomorrow and he also wants you rested before then."

Arthur couldn't help but frown a little. Gerold wanting him to get rest wasn't very likely. He probably wanted him to say his goodbyes to his family. No one was fooling themselves, they knew what they were going to have to do. The royal family wasn't safe in Westeros anymore, they needed to go to Essos, into exile. Something that he, and the others, really didn't like as it felt too much like they were running, and they had always felt that the kingsguard was not supposed to run. But, above all, the kingsguard protects the king, and if they needed to run to do that, they would, even if they didn't want to.

Arthur nodded to Oswell and began making his way up the steps that lead to his family home.

Entering the keep and walking through the whitestone halls he wondered if he would ever see this place again, and if he would ever see his family. Essos could be a dangerous place and it would be even more dangerous with them dragging the royal family around. It wasn't going to help that two of them would be infants, their king and whatever child their pregnant queen bore. They were going to have to protect them while also doing whatever they could to build some sort of army to fight the usurper and his allies. It was very unlikely that all of them would survive to see King Jaegon sit the Iron Throne.

He passed beneath an arch that led to a balcony overlooking the courtyard where the young men of the castle trained at arms and the servants moved about, performing their daily duties. He put his hands on the railing and leaned over, looking out at the castle, at his home, until he heard footsteps and the sound of rustling cloth approaching. He turned to see his sister walk onto the balcony to stand beside him, the king nestled safely in her arms, and the lord commander standing back near the doorway.

"Are you almost ready to go Arty?" Ashara asked, her sad look telling him that she was not pleased by the notion of them leaving. But, he couldn't help but wonder who it was that she least wanted to leave, him or the king.

"Oswell took over for me and will finish overseeing the last of the preparations. We will be ready to leave at first light." He said, casting a glance towards Gerold to which he responded with an acknowledging nod.

"I see." Ashara followed his gaze towards the lord commander and gave an indignant huff, "Is he always like this? He's barely said a word to me and yet he follows me everywhere."

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. Leave it to his sister to talk about a man while he was standing nearby and not care about that fact in the slightest.

"Aye, he has been a bit of an overprotective mother hen lately." Arthur replied, drawing a small snort from the still present lord commander.

The king began to wriggle around in his swaddling blanket, letting loose small cries. His king was a generally easy going an quiet babe, only ever making sounds when he was hungry or needed to be changed out of soiled smallclothes. This had been a blessing from the gods when they were making their way here as it made the trip much easier than it could have been. But, now that they were safe within his family's home, Arthur could finally take a good hard look at his king.

Like his father, King Jaegon is so quiet and he almost seemed to be solemn, with steel grey eyes that were always looking out at the world and watching everything around him. He looked nothing like Rhaegar and that helped keep the sadness of losing his friend at bay, but now it was coming to him in force. The king may be nothing like Rhaegar in terms of looks, but he seemed to be so much like his father in temperment.

Ashara walked over to the couch that was on the balcony, their mother's favourite spot and the place where their parents would often sit together to chat.

Ashara sat down and began pulling off her dress, baring her breasts for the king. The boy took her nipple into his mouth and began to suckle from Ashara's teat while she gently rocked him, humming a soothing song that Arthur remembered their mother singing.

He watched his sister feed his king and he could see Gerold keeping a close watch on Ashara, his hand never far from his sword. He understood why the lord commander didn't trust Ashara, and he did not like it. But, it was the fact that he too had once felt the same that he hated the most.

Ashara had been Elia's lady-in-waiting as well as her closest friend. But, Rhaegar and Lyanna had dishonoured and insulted the princess in one of the worst ways possible. King Jaegon could be seen as the living embodiment of that betrayal. They had feared Ashara may have seen the king in such a light and have sought … retribution for her friend.

But none of them could have anticipated his sister reacting to the king the way she did, taking over as his primary caretaker and even feeding him from her own breast.

Arthur hadn't even known that his sister had been pregnant and able to breastfeed. The last time he had heard from her, she had been preparing to leave Dragonstone for the Vale to begin the official courting process with Eddard Stark. He knew that she would have been in the Vale, traveling to Riverrun, with Eddard Stark when Brandon and Rickard Stark were killed by the Mad King, but he did not know what happened afterwards, or when it was that she had gotten pregnant.

Once the king was finished feeding he gave a little burp and promptly fell back to sleep, allowing his sister to fix her dress and cover herself. Ashara watched the king as he slept, a sad smile gracing her lips as her deep purple eyes began to grow watery.

"He looks like him." She said, prompting Arthur to grow uncomfortable. He knew who she was talking about and he had no desire to speak about Eddard Stark. He had a feeling that his sister still loved the now Lord Stark, but Arthur felt nothing but loathing. The man had abandoned his sister for another woman and likely left Ashara with a child in her belly. A child that he suspected did not survive, else he would have likely been introduced to his niece or nephew by now.

"Aye. He does." Arthur said in a stiff voice, "Ash. What happened after you went to the Vale?"

He saw his sister stiffen up as tears began to flow freely from her eyes, "We left to go to Riverrun for Brandon and the Tully girl's wedding. We were going to ask Ned's father for permission to wed. But then, the prince took Lyanna. A rider from Lord Rickard told us what had happened and that Brandon had ridden for King's Landing. He told us to return to the Eyrie and let Lord Arryn know what was going on. It wasn't long after we got back that the Mad King demanded Ned's and the Usurper's heads, prompting Lord Arryn calling his banners. While Lord Arryn and the Usurper went to Gulltown to take it from the loyalists, Ned and I traveled through the Mountains of the Moon and took a boat from the fingers back to White Harbour. So much was happening so fast and Ned was grieving after losing his father and brother, so he sought comfort with me. Ned felt that he had dishonoured me, so we wed in a small ceremony at White Harbour with Lord Manderly as witness. After that we went our separate ways, him to Winterfell and me, by boat, back here."

A choked sob escaped his sister's lips, "But then, the next piece of news I got was that Ned had annulled our marriage and wed Catelyn Tully. He forced him to do it! That damned fish, Hoster Tully, forced my Ned to annul our marriage and wed his daughter instead. Otherwise he wouldn't support the rebels against the Targaryens. Ned had no choice, they needed the support of the Riverlands and Hoster knew that. He used the damn war to further his own ambitions! And then Alysanne … my poor Alysanne."

Rage and sorrow bubbled within Arthur as his sister recounted her story. Sorrow for the child that she likely lost due to her grief, and rage towards the Tullys for doing such a thing to his dear sister. He even felt a little guilt, for if he had stopped Rhaegar from running off with Lyanna, then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe his sister would be in Winterfell, singing to her daughter by the fire alongside the man she loves. But, he felt the most guilt for judging Eddard Stark the way he had. He had assumed that the 'honourable' Eddard Stark had simply tossed his sister aside after he was done with her, just as his elder brother would have done. But now he saw the choice Lord Stark had been forced to make. He had been forced to choose between the woman he loved and the people he ruled. He had been forced to choose between love and duty, and in the end, he choose duty. Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit of respect towards him for that. Few would have had the strength to make that choice.

"I'm sorry Ash." Arthur said. Looking out the corner of his eye he could see the lord commander, lowering his head in shame. His sister had been through so much and they had been so distrusting of her.

Wiping her eyes with her hand, she looked up and met his gaze, "It's not your fault Arty." She gave him a strained smile, "But I still love him and I don't know if there will ever come a day that I don't. I can't blame him for what he did. I know he made the right choice, but it still hurts. I don't have anything left. I lost my daughter, my dearest friend, my husband, and my brother will be leaving soon as well. I won't even be able to marry again. My daughters birth was difficult and damaged my womb. I will never have another child. What lord would want a soiled woman that can't even give them sons?" She asked, her voice strained and choked as she looked away from him, "I don't have anything left to live for."

Arthur tensed. He could see where his sister's thoughts were headed and he did not like it. Making a snap judgement he spoke, "Then you should come with us." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the lord commander peg him with a look. Arthur knew that he was stepping out of line by making a decision of this magnitude without consulting Gerold and Oswell first. They had already agreed that they would only do what they all agreed was best, but he needed to do this anyway. His sister needed something to keep her going. She needed a reason to live on.

"The king seems to like you and having you around would mean that we don't need to feed the king goat's milk. Plus, once Queen Rhaella gives birth, we will have two babes to worry about and take care of. I'm sure she will appreciate having you around to help."

Ashara looked him in the eye for a long moment before moving her gaze to their sleeping king's face.

"Really? Are you really fine with bringing me along?" Ashara asked, her voice filled with desperation.

Looking at Gerold he could see that the old man was far less than pleased, but he nodded his consent nonetheless. He was probably more angry with him for breaking their agreement than he was about having Ashara join them. After all, they were warriors. They could lead men in battle and kill their enemies, but they bordered on useless when it came to caring for children.

Looking back to his sister he spoke, "Yes. Really."

"Thank you." She whispered as she held the king a little closer.

Arthur watched his king, cradled in his sister's arms, while the sun set and the stars began to dominate the sky. As he did so, he couldn't help but worry. He worried about all the things that he and Rhaegar had seen. He worried about the fiery and dark magics that those people had shown them. He worried about the ancient wisdoms they would only share with Rhaegar when he met with them in private. But most of all, he worried that they would approach their new king and whisper things into his ear, just as they had done with his father, and he feared the path it would set his young king on.

~X~

**Ser Oswell Whent **

Why in the seven hells would anybody want to live here? Arthur says you get used to the heat, but Oswell would much prefer not having to get used to it in the first place. Add in the fact that everyone was so tense and that just made Sunspear an even more miserable place. Although, such tension really shouldn't be surprising. A Martell princess had recently been raped and murdered, all while her children were being butchered like sheep on Tywin Lannister's orders.

Then there was them. The kingsguard of a fallen dynasty, carrying around the child whose parents had inadvertently caused that tragedy.

Arthur and his sister may have said that the Martells, or at the very least Prince Doran, would not blame King Jaegon for Princess Elia's death, but this tension was not inspiring much confidence. The Dornish were angry, and when someone is angry, they tend to act impulsively. They may not blame the king while they are calm, but they may blame him while they are angry. Thus, all three of the kingsguard remained alert, vigilant, and always in the king's presence.

Within the room they currently occupied there were two couches, both with intricate embroidery using silks of various colours. Oswell and Arthur stood behind one of the couches, upon which sat Gerold and Ashara, cradling their king in her arms while the babe curiously looked around. On the other, sat the Prince of Dorne, Doran Martell, with his faithful captain of the guard, Areo Hotah, positioned behind him.

Prior to their meeting, the prince had ordered all others, aside from Hotah, to leave the room, likely as a gesture of good will, before offering them all guestright. Something which the lord commander had been certain to give to the king, even if he was a babe. It had been rather amusing to watch Gerold try to feed the king a few crumbs of bread and a few grains of salt, leading to the boy becoming none too pleased with his elderly protector. Even the prince seemed amused by the display, though none of them took it as a cue to let their guards down.

So here they were, five men, one woman and a baby, alone in a room to negotiate for the future of the seven kingdoms. Wonderful.

Neither Oswell nor his sworn brothers were under the impression that they were at an advantage. They, and their king, only lived by the good will of the Dornish prince. If a fight broke out there was little hope they would survive. Areo Hotah may be a beast in battle, but, the three of them could easily cut him and his prince down, even while protecting a baby. It was fighting everyone else in Sunspear that would seal their fates. They were good, but not good enough to take a whole castle by themselves while lugging around an unarmed woman and a helpless babe.

"So …" The prince spoke, opening their negotiations, "Rhaegar had another son."

"Yes." The lord commander responded slowly, "Lady Lyanna named him Jaegon, the first of his name."

Leaning his head on his hand, the prince tapped his finger on his temple in a gesture of mock contemplation, "Am I right to assume that you have come here to seek support for the new king?"

The prince's voice was even, cold and calculating. His expression giving nothing away, even as he spoke of something that most would find distasteful. Aegon, Doran's nephew, was supposed to have been king one day, not his half brother, born to a northern girl.

The whole thing unsettled Oswell. Prince Doran was handling this too much like he imagined Tywin Lannister would have had he been in the prince's shoes, and they had all seen how the lion lord dealt with those who got in his way.

"We have." Gerold's voice was calm, betraying none of the nervousness he had confessed to feeling as they had been sailing here.

"And why should we support him?" Doran said, his facade slipping a little, allow some of his anger to slip through, "The boy is no kin of mine, and no one in the realm will fight another war to put a bastard on the throne. The rebellion has left everyone tired, and the memories of the Blackfyre Rebellions still linger in the minds of many lords."

All three of them grew nervous, and Ashara looked like she was getting angry. Clearly the bastard comment was not sitting well with her.

He heard Gerold swallow before speaking, "He isn't a bastard."

"Oh, last I checked Prince Rhaegar was married to my sister, not Lyanna Stark" The prince's words dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes burned with fury.

He already knew, or at least he had a pretty good idea about what Rhaegar had done. This moment was the one they had dreaded needing to handle the most. After hours of arguing, they decided truth was the best option. At least by telling the truth, they may be able to salvage the situation. Lying would only guarantee that they would have a powerful enemy amongst the Dornish when the truth came to light.

"It was annulled." Gerold spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry Ser Gerold. I didn't quite hear you." Prince Doran said, his voice carrying a barely contained rage.

"Rhaegar annulled his marriage to your sister and wed Lyanna Stark on the bank of the God's Eye." Gerold replied, doing his best to sound confident. "Oswell and Arthur acted as the witnesses."

The prince sank back into his couch, running a shaking hand through his hair as he mumbled, "I thought so."

After a minute, the prince composed himself and looked at the lord commander, "Did she at least mourn for my sister? Did they at least feel shame for what they had done to her?"

Gerold nodded, "Yes. The prince was far more melancholic than usually once the two of them finally came back to reality. As for Lyanna, at times it seemed Princess Elia's death and what she had done to shame your sister ate away at her conscience as much as the death of her father and brother."

A moment of silence followed, "I guess that's something at least, though it does little to wash away what they did." The prince then turned his attention towards the king for a few moments, only to return his gaze to Gerold, "So what exactly do you want from Dorne?"

Gerold took a moment to collect himself, "We would ask for aid in keeping the royal family safe and the support of Dorne when the time comes to reclaim the throne from the Lannisters and Baratheons. You cannot get justice by yourself and the king can bring you the allies that you will need to succeed."

Prince Doran sat still on his couch, appearing to mull over the request, "You will have the spears of Dorne when the time comes to wage war on the usurper and his allies, but that is all."

Ashara opened her mouth, a look of outrage spreading across her beautiful face, a look that almost perfectly mirrored her brother's, though he seemed more composed than the still grieving woman. Oswell had to admit, he too felt the same outrage they did.

The Prince simply cut her off, pegging them all with a heated glare, "I do not blame the boy for what his parents did. But, I also hold no love for him, and neither will the people of Dorne. We have a common enemy in the Lannisters and Baratheons, and if the time ever comes for the boy to return, we will fight together to bring them down. The boy's life and upbringing are none of my concern." Prince Doran stopped, and took a calming breath, "You have my word that I will not act to harm the boy, like Tywin Lannister doubtlessly would, but neither will I help him until the time comes for us to face our common enemy."

"And what about after?" Damn it. He had gotten better at not speaking his mind without thinking it through first, but that was only when he was around Aerys.

The prince looked him in the eye and spoke in an even voice, "Then those who wronged my family will be dead, and justice will have been served."

"And you'll do what, break away from the throne? Declare Dornish independence?" Ashara followed up, throwing her accusation in the prince's face. It looked like Ashara was still angry. Doran's features darkened at the accusation.

"Enough!" The lord commander shouted, "There is no need for you to be rude Ashara." Ashara just huffed and turned her head away from the lord commander in response.

The air in the room grew thick and tense, only to dissipate when the king began to cry softly. Even Doran seemed to be a little affected by the king's quiet little sobs. Clearly the king didn't like all the arguing that was happening around him.

Ashara was quick to begin rocking the king, working her womanly magic and comforting the boy with an ease that none of them could match. Thank the gods Arthur thought to bring her along and thank the gods Gerold allowed it. On the trip to Starfall, Gerold was generally the best among them at comforting the king but even he wasn't that good at it.

Gerold sighed as he turned his attention towards the Prince of Dorne, "Although, your intention for what happens once King Jaegon sits on the throne is something we would like to know. After all, it is no secret that there have always been … tensions … between Dorne and the Iron Throne."

"That really isn't any of your business Ser." The prince responded, "But … just know that we have no intention of declaring independence. Dorne may have won most of the Dornish Wars, but, those victories came at great cost, and I won't put my people through that again. What's more, staying in the fold is simply better for trade. You are right though. Dorne has never had the best relationship with the Iron Throne, so I propose a marriage."

Arthur raised an incredulous eyebrow and scoffed, "You would wed your only daughter to the son of a man and woman you clearly hate? A child you yourself admitted to having no love for?"

"No. I would not have Arianne marry the boy. I would have her be wed to Prince Viserys."

Oswell tensed. He really didn't like the sound of that. Both because he didn't like thinking about Viserys in general and because of the potential risk that Doran will betray them and try to place Viserys on the throne.

"You want your only daughter to wed **Prince** Viserys, and not **King **Jaegon?" Arthur snapped, while Ashara held the king a little tighter and seemed to be having some trouble holding her tongue, "Have you lost all ambition Doran?"

"True, I do not blame the boy for what happened, but I also hate what he represents, and I will not have my daughter bound to him." The prince said evenly, pegging Ashara with a small accusatory look. He likely thought that Ashara caring for the king as much as she clearly did was a betrayal of Princess Elia, "Arianne is my eldest child and heir. Her place is here, in Sunspear, where she will one day rule. My family has already lost too much in its dealings with House Targaryen, and if I had my way we would have nothing to do with the lot of you." The prince paused, "Having her wed Prince Viserys is simply the best compromise."

Gerold looked into the prince's eyes for a long moment, likely trying to find any sign of deceit, "Fine. But such things are not for us to decide. We will inform Queen Rhaella of your offer and let her choose whether or not to accept."

Prince Doran nodded before waving them off, "Good. I will send Oberyn to finalize the arrangement at a later date. Now, it is best that you go. We have received word that Stannis Baratheon will be attacking Dragonstone any day now."

Gerold and Ashara rose from the couch and they all gave a stiff bow to the prince, "Thank you for meeting with us." gerold said, only eliciting a grunt of acknowledgement from the ruler of Dorne.

As they left the room, Oswell mumbled, "We didn't get any immediate help, but … we are still alive … so … silver lining."

Arthur only responded by giving him an annoyed look, one that he returned with a sardonic grin.

~X~

**Ser Gerold Hightower**

Cautiously, their group moved through the crowded streets of Braavos, making their way towards the house that Ser Willem Darry had taken up residence in with Prince Viserys and the newborn Princess Daenerys. The hoods of their cloaks drawn over their heads in order to hide their identities and each wearing common clothes as to not draw unwanted attention.

By the time they had arrived in the Crownlands, Stannis Baratheon had already taken Dragonstone, only to have just barely missed the rest of the royal family.

They had hidden themselves on Driftmark in order to inform Lord Velaryon of the king's existence as well as get in contact with Ser Willem so that they could meet up with the rest of the exiled royal family.

It had been there on Driftmark that they had been informed about Queen Rhaella's passing due to complications during the birth of her daughter. That had hurt Gerold deeply, for this was the second time he had been unable to save a woman from the dangers of childbirth, only for him to be left with a newborn orphan to raise.

Lord Velaryon had been a gracious host, giving them a rather sizable amount of money to use in taking care of the children while pledging his allegiance to King Jaegon Targaryen. Lord Monford had even expressed a great joy in knowing that he didn't owe his fealty to Prince Viserys. He told them that Queen Rhaella had been in mourning and crowned Viserys king, thinking that Rhaegar had no children to inherit the throne, leaving Viserys as the 'rightful' heir to their family.

They could all tell that this was going to cause problems. Viserys was difficult at the best of times, but now that he thought he was king he would be even more problematic and he may not be willing to accept that their king has the greater claim to the throne.

The best they could do was try and make him understand the situation and failing that, ensure that he has no means of gathering a powerbase. The Dornish would either be a hindrance or a help in this regard. They may, if Doran was being truthful, keep Viserys from causing trouble, or, they may simply encourage his delusions so that they might put Princess Arianne on the throne.

Approaching a decently sized house with a red door, Gerold knocked in a specifically rhythmic pattern. The same way Ser Willem had instructed them to do in his letter so that they might prove their identity. The door opened a crack and they saw a man peering through the gap, looking them all over as they lowered their hoods to show their faces. A moment later the door opened fully and they were ushered inside.

As they poured in, Ser Willem barely took note of the kingsguard, for his attention was focused squarely on the Ashara and the babe in her arms.

"Is this him?" He asked.

"It is." Gerold responded, "Our king. Jaegon Targaryen, the first of his name."

"He looks nothing like Rhaegar." Willem said, prompting Ashara to tense a little and allow for a small frown to appear on her lips,"That is good." Ashara's features softened a little in surprise.

Perhaps she had thought that Ser Willem was implying their king was a bastard, or unworthy of being their king. But, Gerold knew, and he could see that the other kingsguard could also tell what Willem really meant. The usurper and his allies would be looking for someone with Targaryen features, but dark brown hair and grey eyes are far less noticable and will draw less attention. Lyanna's colouring will make it easier for them to keep the king hidden.

Willem looked at Ashara and gave her a half smile, "The princess is sleeping in the nursery, the third room on the right hand side of the hall, just up those stairs." He said while nodding towards the staircase a little ways down the hall. "I hired a prostitute that has a child of her own to come and feed the princess. The woman thinks that the prince and princess are my grandchildren and that their parents have died recently. Prince Viserys' mourning for the late queen has certainly made the woman more willing to believe the story. Now that we have you here, we will no longer have need of her services. Once I heard that you were coming I told the woman that a friend of my daughter was on her way to stay with us and would be looking after the princess' needs."

Gerold and the other kingsguard nodded in response. The prostitute was a loose end and they were not happy about that. They were going to have to deal with her. Thankfully, no one would see a dead whore as anything that needs to be looked into.

Willems face then hardened and became far more grave, "I think it would be best for one of you accompanied Lady Ashara to the nursery."

Everyone frowned in response. Sure, Gerold knew that he had been far less than trusting of Ashara when they arrived in Starfall, and perhaps even a bit unfair, but she has long since proven her loyalty. They were the kingsguard and they were the ones who decided whether someone could be trusted to be around the royal family. It was not Ser Willem's place to question their decisions on such matters.

Willem sighed, no doubt reading the looks they were all giving him. He ran a hand through his hair and said, "It's not Lady Ashara that I'm worried about. It's Prince Viserys." The pieces clicked in Gerold's mind, and he expected that they had for the others as well.

"You haven't told him yet?" Arthur asked.

"No." Willem responded, "I figured it best that he hear it from you. He will be more likely to listen to the kingsguard than the master-at-arms. Plus, it would be easier to handle him with the three of you here should he try to do anything foolish. He has already proven to be less than fond of his sister, blaming her for the loss of their mother. I fear what he may come to think of the king, or what those thoughts may lead him to try."

Gerold released a tired sigh, "I will speak with the prince later. Arthur will take the first shift and accompany Ashara to the nursery."

Ashara and Arthur both nodded and took the king further into the house and up the stairs, disappearing from view.

Gerold turned to the others, "Lets go and sit down. There is much that we need to discuss."

"Are you sure Lord Commander?" Willem asked, "You have all been travelling for a long time. You need to rest."

"I can rest once the king sits the Iron Throne." Gerold responded, his gaze flickering around the building's interior, "How did you come to acquire the house Ser?"

Willem began leading them towards the sitting room as he responded, "I felt it best to make it known to the Sea Lord about our presence in the city. He was thankful for that, as he can now prepare to deny being involved with us or knowing that we were even here if the usurper learns of our location. However, he stated that he has no desire to get rid of us so long as we remain out of trouble. The house was actually a gift from the Sea Lord that cannot be traced back to him since it was registered under the name of one of his friends that has long since passed." Willem then stopped and looked towards the two remaining kingsguard, "The Sea Lord did not guarantee his support, but he did not discard the possibility either. However, having the three of you here may help. Your reputations are legendary, even on this side of the sea. Having you on our side may make him more comfortable with the idea of aiding us. But it is likely that we will still have to prove ourselves capable of succeeding first."

Gerold nodded as they continued on and entered the sitting room.

"Aye. A possible alliance with Braavos is better than no alliance at all." Gerold said as he and his companions lowered themselves into the chairs around the dim hearthfire, "It's as you said, we need to prove ourselves a good option to side with, but not to the Sea Lord."

"If not the Sea Lord, than who?" Willem asked.

Gerold just gazed into the fire.

Oswell was the one to answer, "The Iron Bank."

Realization than crossed over Ser Willem's face, "I see." He said mournfully.

"The Iron Bank is the real power in Braavos." Gerold stated, "And they could prove to be the greatest of allies. But, convincing them that it is in their best interest to support us will be no small feat. Men can be awed, bribed or threatened, but not the Iron Bank. It is not one man, the Iron Bank is just the Iron Bank, and it only does what is best for itself. Morality or inheritance are irrelevant."

A sullen silence descended over the room.

"We really do have our work cut out for us." Willem said before he looked to the kingsguard and asked, "What happened after the tourney at Harrenhal? I, like many others, are dying to know what really transpired between the prince and Lady Lyanna."

Oswell then dramatically rose from his chair and said, "Well … I'm going to need to get a drink." Ser Willem gave Oswell a questioning look, "What? You said you wanted to know what happened between them, and I'm going to need to be pretty drunk in order to tell you all the details of what they got up to in that tower." Oswell said as he suggestively waggled his eyebrows.

"I-I-I … I just meant … D-Damn it Oswell you know what I meant!" Willem sputtered.

"Yeah yeah." He said as he left the room, apparently serious about getting a drink. In response Willem gave the knight of the kingsguard an annoyed huff.

Gerold laughed before looking to Ser Willem, "Don't worry Willem, I'll tell you what happened. Just know, it's a long story."

"We have plenty of time till morning." Willem said as he settled in to hear what events had lead to the rebellion and the fall of the family they both served.

~X~

Gerold sat alone in the nursery, seated on a chair that was placed right next to the simple wooden crib. The room was warm, but sparsely decorated, something that he was going to try and change as soon as possible.

He sat in silence as he stared at the cribs occupants. Two babes, laying side-by-side in a peaceful slumber, and as he watched them he thought about the past, the present and the future.

Looking at the children hurt him deeply as seeing them reminded him of their mothers, the women he could not save. But, it was little Daenerys that pained him most. She looked just like her mother had at that age, and seeing her brought all the guilt he felt crashing down. They weren't even a year old and he had already failed the both of them so much. They had no parents because he had not been able to do anything to save them. They were going to spend their childhoods on the run, looking over their shoulders for assassins, all because he didn't have the strength to cast down Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister.

But worst of all, he feared he would only keep failing them. That he would fail them time and time again, the same way he kept failing Rhaella. A few tears fell from his eyes as he thought of every time he would stand guard outside the royal bed chambers, still and silent as a statue, while Aerys raped his queen. He had been so adamant in keeping his vows that he had turned a blind eye to every atrocity Aerys committed.

Did Jaime really have the right of it? Was keeping his oath really worth sacrificing his humanity? He still remembered the first time Jaime had to stand guard outside the royal bedchambers while Aerys took Rhaella, and he remember what he had told the boy after his shift.

"_We swore an oath to protect her!" Jaime shouted, fury ablaze within his green eyes._

"_We did. But not from him." Gerold responded, his words as cold as the winter winds._

Thinking about the boy he had personally raised up into the kingsguard also hurt. Jaime had once been filled with so much pride, potential and optimism. Now, he was just the boy that Oswell, Arthur and so many others had labeled as Kingslayer. But Gerold could not bring himself to condemn Jaime, not yet. He needed to hear it from the boy's own lips. To hear that he had killed his king because his father wanted him to, or hear that he had killed the king to protect and avenge the queen who had treated him like a son.

Gerold looked at Daenerys and Jaegon's sweet little faces and wondered if he would be able to protect them. He looked at the children and wondered if he he would be strong enough to bring them home, and how he was going to do it. Would Westeros rise up for a king who was born from two lovesick fools who's carelessness plunged the kingdoms into war? Would they rise up for a princess born from the seed of a madman and fathered through rape?

His gaze drifted away from the children and out the window, towards the sun as it crept its way over the eastern horizon, leaving his mind awash with images. Images that had been littering his dreams of late, only to become an unintelligible mess of half forgotten memories as soon as he woke.

But as he gazed at the the myriad of colours that the morning sun painted onto the sky, the images took shape, and for the first time, he clearly saw what they were supposed to be.

~X~

A vast field spread out in all directions ,as far as the eye could see, completely covered in the pale blue winter roses that the late Lady Lyanna had loved so much. Above, countless stars glimmered against the dark expanse of the night sky. But, nothing shone as bright as the moon, massive and luminous, it ruled supreme in this place, bathing the world in comforting light as though showering the land with a mother's love. The night sky was a black so deep that it seemed as though nothing could pierce it, save the light of the gentle moon, as it hung heavy over the world, like the protective and stern presence of a father.

Upon the field a single well trodden path was cut through the sea of roses, leading towards the moon. Upon that path was a boy and a girl who were roughly eighteen years of age, standing side by side.

The boy stood tall, like a pillar that no mortal could topple, with broad shoulders that spoke of great strength and calloused hands that showed his years of devotion to swordsmanship. The boy wore a simple black tunic with a dark red trim, and brown trousers that tucked into his boots. His dark brown hair was pulled back and tied behind his head. His handsome face was adorned with a short bared, typical of young men growing their facial hair out for the first time, while his sharp and solemn grey eyes gazed out across the field.

The girl stood to the boy's right. She wore a simple dress made from the white wool which flowed down her body and came to and end just above her ankles. Around her slender waist was wrapped a soft leather belt to hold the dress tightly against the curve of her body, while, upon her feet, she wore soft leather sandals. She had long silver-gold hair that flowed freely from her head like a curtain of precious silk. Her pale skin appeared soft and creamy to the touch, only adding to the girl's unparalleled beauty. Her lips were plump and painted red, while her soft lilac eyes radiated love and kindness as she gazed out across the field.

Over the horizon a group of figures appeared, standing upon the path. The figures towered several feet over the average man, each one wearing the raiments of ancient kings. Their eyes all shone bright within this nocturnal landscape. Some glowed with the colour of jade or opal, while others were tourmaline, onyx, topaz, and amethyst.

Each figure held out a hand to the boy and the girl, beckoning them forwards.

The boy reached over and took the girl's hand within his own as their fingers laced together. The two looked at each other as undying love and devotion passed between them. They shared a peaceful smile before they began walking down the path towards the waiting figures.

With each step they took other people stepped onto the path and began following them. Gerold saw Arthur fall into step behind them. He saw Ashara, Oswell, Willem, Barristan and millions more from a hundred different peoples.

So, Gerold also stepped out and joined the grand procession as it made its way down the path, and while they walked he heard the figures at the end of the path speak.

"_**By the will of the Gods, the chosen champion shall consecrate the world in the life's blood of the blessed sacrifice and the accursed usurper. There by granting unto humanity absolution for their sins. Only then shall the night which engulfs the mortal realm draw to a close and allow a new age of hope to dawn. So it has been ordained, and so it shall be."**_

~X~

A sense of purpose surged through the lord commander's old body as tears of joy began streaming down his face. He basked in the feeling of strength, the likes of which he had never felt before, and turned his attention back to the sleeping children.

Maybe the gods had not abandoned them. Maybe, they had been showing him visions of what could be. They had shown him Jaegon and Daenerys as what they were meant to become. They had shown him a future worth safeguarding.

He was a kingsguard, but as he looked at the two children he saw his true purpose in life. His duty was not to a crown or a throne, or whatever fool claimed to own such things. It was to these children, and only them.

Gerold drew his sword and planted the tip of the blade into the floor. He knelt, clasping the hilt with both hands as he spoke to the sleeping babes.

"I, Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, in the sight of gods and men, do hereby swear this vow, by earth and water, by bronze and iron, by ice and fire. I shall protect and guide you, remaining by your side, be it in body or in spirit, from this day, until your last day."

In the hearth, the fire flared and shadows danced around the room.

But, Gerold simply smiled. He was now bound to a new oath, greater and more binding than his oaths as a kingsguard.

After so many years of service he finally felt pride.


End file.
